Did She Mention My Name
by Jilly-chan
Summary: Haru POV, post series. A speculative piece when our favorite wanderer happens across Kyou years later. Written as a gift for Mirax-chan *love*


Did She Mention My Name  
  
by Jillian Storm  
  
(Disclaimer: I never thought it'd be so hard to write a Fruits Basket fic as much as I love the series. Yet, I promised Mirax-chan a story of her own and I wanted to write something for her very much. This is for you, Mirax. Haru POV, post series with some inclinations of a scene from their childhood-as suggested. I tried to fit in some other requests I got from friends also. Characters not mine, lyrics are from Gordon Lightfoot and the rest-well, blame it on the rain. The weather here has been so gloomy! This is my first FB fic, so I suppose that I have much to improve upon. But now that the door is open . . . ta da!)  
  
It's so nice to meet an old friend  
  
and pass the time of day,  
  
and talk about the home town  
  
a million miles away.  
  
Is the ice still on the river,  
  
are the old folks still the same  
  
and by the way,  
  
did she mention my name?  
  
I was too surprised to get angry. Too surprised to actually protest that he had been cutting off my circulation as his arms curled around my neck instinctually doubling me over by his waist. I supposed that he was still and eternally going to be older than me, but now that we were both slipping into our own mid-twenties-I might have imagined that he wouldn't have attacked me with the same ferocity. Something about seeing his red mop and eternally boyish grin reminded me of our childhood and I knew I was lost.  
  
"Haru, you idiot, what are you doing so far from the others." I feel him thunk my head with a flick of his finger, most likely leaving a brief, affectionate mark on my forehead.  
  
Somehow he missed my comment about how it was actually he himself who'd been distanced. Then again, it was becoming an effort to breath, so I couldn't be entirely certain that he heard my words through the ragged breaths I was trying to slip down into my burning lungs.  
  
"Isn't Kisa graduating from school this summer? Shouldn't you be there? You lost, or did you miss me?" His grip on my neck loosened, and I pulled back, touching my neck just to make sure that it wasn't permanently indented with the print of his arm. Not answering, I pulled him forward for a hug-this time without the head lock interfering. He then thumped my back heartily and pushed me away laughing. "Doesn't matter, does it? Lost or visiting, you've got to see my dojo."  
  
"Ok." I said simply, entranced by how Kyou Sohma seemed so happy. Which was more than I could have hoped for, and I would have checked on him sooner . . . if I had remembered where he was living.  
  
It turned out that I had wandered quite close to his home, which was a simple, sparse apartment just above the small dojo studio. The gleam in his eye as we crossed the matted part of the floor worried me and I felt a vein in my neck throb fearfully anticipating that the cat might pounce me again.  
  
"Remind you of old times, eh, Haru?" Kyou slapped the floor with his bare feet as he bounced. I couldn't help but smile a little at his enthusiasm. "Too bad it's a weekend or I'd let the kids practice on you."  
  
"Hn." I glanced back at the wall of mirrors not quite startled to see a much older, taller version of myself standing next to the man who'd once been my childhood mentor, my martial arts sparring partner, my friend. Not that he wasn't my friend any longer, but it was strange to see the changes brought by time. My same eyes gazing out from still broad cheeks framed by forever white hair. Only taller, fuller. We were not children anymore.  
  
"Remember this one?" Kyou swung his arm out quickly, I lifted mine by instinct to block it when I felt his over eager leg sweep mine out from under me. Flat on my back, I frowned a little. "Come on," Kyou shook his head, still standing over me. "That was pathetic, I thought you'd gotten better than this."  
  
"I don't want to fight." I said simply, sitting up and smoothing out the wrinkles of my shirt sleeves. Although, I did feel a thin vibration of irritation at his mocking eyes as they began to study the ceiling. "Or maybe later." I murmured.  
  
He seemed to perk up at the thought and pulled me to the stairs and up to the place he was calling home. Apparently a bit starved for adult conversation, Kyou continued to talk excitedly. I followed, not bothering to answer the questions as they piled one on top of another. As he never paused to realize he wasn't getting answers.  
  
Did she mention my name just in passing?  
  
And when the morning came,  
  
do you remember if she dropped a name or two?  
  
Is the home team still on fire,  
  
do they still win all the games  
  
and by the way, did she mention my name?  
  
After he filled my glass with water, something he'd asked if I'd wanted and automatically supplied anyway without a response, Kyou settled into his seat opposite mine at the table. I'd seen him this enthusiastic before when Shisho came after a long trip in the mountains. Kyou thrived on people, his friends and the small burst of conversational enthusiasm was something that he worked through until it all settled into the content and somewhat pissed expression he had on his face just then. The look where he realized, quite abruptly, that he was the only one talking.  
  
It was in that brief moment, that one look, when I could get a fragmented picture of the angry boy that had been rejected by the Sohma family. The momentary fear that perhaps his acceptance was only a faÃ§ade, that perhaps he was being mocked again. I tipped my glass to him in a friendly way before taking another drink. That old Kyou was immediately reabsorbed with a newly content smile. One that reminded me of a very specific girl who had undeniably done much to restore each of our broken Sohma hearts.  
  
He obliged me my restful silence, and only raised his eyebrow when I finally spoke, "This water is vile."  
  
"You're welcome." Kyou bristled, but only by half. My comment without explanation he would tolerate once.  
  
With a half smile, I continued, somewhat baiting I knew, "Not unlike that sludge Yuki had you drink all those years ago."  
  
That truly perked Kyou's ears. "Why are you bringing that up?" He snarled ferociously, except that I knew better. My affection of course aroused by his familiar sneer.  
  
"I just wanted to suggest perhaps that you find a new well or some sort of filter. Is this city water?" I pointed at the glass which hovered mid-air in my other hand.  
  
"If you wanted bottled water go to the store." Kyou propped his head up in his hands, "How can I be tired of you already?" But I knew better to recognize the teasing whine trailed under his angry voice.  
  
"If I remember correctly, it was Yuki's subtle way at getting back at you for calling him a copy cat. Some irony that." I set the glass down, basking in the memory of a gentle, young Yuki and his determination to prove that martial arts were not his life-which made his natural talent and gift all the more loathsome to Kyou. The spoiled water had been childish, part of their younger banter that had escalated somehow into a full out war by the time the boys were in junior high. When Yuki had gracefully grown into a more sophisticated antagonist and Kyou had spent more days flushed an angry red that he was almost tanned from the inside out.  
  
Kyou's lips pulled up into one cheek in what was supposed to be a bitter smile, but it hung warmly between us. Almost fondly.  
  
Is the landlord still a loser,  
  
do his signs hang in the hall,  
  
are the young girls still as pretty  
  
in the city in the fall?  
  
Shigure had tried to write a book about Kyou and Yuki when they were younger, but once they got wind of the plot-one with a cleverly disguised cast of characters including Kiue, Yumi, and one rather droll character named Hura-well, it was a short lived manuscript. But one evening at Shigure's, when visiting . . . or rather admiring the transformations that my two favorite people were slipping into-Shigure had admitted to me that the story wasn't going the way he had planned either. That it wasn't such a loss to have his manuscript burned-rather than the typewriter itself as they had threatened. That he had another story in mind.  
  
I wonder if he ever started that one.  
  
"What's that?" I asked, and Kyou glanced around the room trying to figure out what I was indicating when I didn't immediately point to the pictures spilled on one end of the table. The room itself was rather neat except for a few well-lived in corners. The table had been half cleared in haste when Kyou had scrambled into the room ahead of me. A few flyers yet to be tossed, a few bills, a pile of photographs and their doubles were sprinkled across the other side.  
  
The topmost one was of some sort of concert where I was a bit surprised to see a candid of Kyou dressed in something that seemed much more suited for my wardrobe. Lifting one silver metal decorated finger of my own I pointed at the snapshot of Kyou wearing a black leather coat and pulling his teeth out for the camera.  
  
"Oh that." Kyou's brows pulled together, "Hana and Uo-chan wanted me to go to some concert with them. A bunch of fellows dressed up like black winged angels. That frightful look I have explains how my evening went pretty well."  
  
"What about this one?" I asked, sliding the top most pictures over with a sudden nosiness.  
  
"Oi!" Kyou started, leaning back then forward unsure what to do as I picked up a picture of Uo-chan draped all over a flustered and handsome Kyou who didn't seem to mind at all. "Camera's make people do weird things."  
  
I studied him while he wouldn't look at me for a moment, remembering his glorious bashfulness when it came to women. It made him rather cute. I set the picture down and wanting to put him at ease again made light of it, "I'm glad you're out having fun. I'm glad to see you happy."  
  
Does the laughter on their faces  
  
still put the sun to shame  
  
and by the way,  
  
did she mention my name?  
  
Before I had misplaced myself in Kyou's neighborhood, I had happened by Aya's store and been over eagerly greeted by the ambitious owner and his latest booklet of clothes he'd designed. His sketched always amused me since the models in their sparse details were undeniably recognizable to anyone in our immediate family. I suppose putting his elaborately detailed patterns and colors on more or less familiar faces amused him to no end.  
  
Shigure of course suffered some of the greatest indecencies in design and color selection. I did not escape a skirted, short-sleeved butler's uniform accessorized with elbow high gloves. The pictures of Yuki were perhaps the most respectful to his true character and the most elegant and respectable in detail. Of course, the black-clad model like Kyou was undeniable with the splatter of orange color on top-with wing tipped cat ears that I suppose might be mistaken for a more devilish variety of horns.  
  
Blinking, I glanced back down at the pictures from the concert. Squinting, the clothes he was wearing in the photos did look oddly familiar now. Coolly, I never said a word.  
  
And as Kyou picked up his one sided conversation now and again, I wondered when it would come. He hadn't said anything so far.  
  
Did she mention my name just in passing?  
  
And when the talk ran high,  
  
did the look in her eye seem far away?  
  
Is the old roof still leaking  
  
when the late snow turns to rain  
  
and by the way,  
  
did she mention my name?  
  
Before setting off from where I had just finished building my own house in one of the more distant corners of the family's wooded property, I had stopped by Shigure's house as I was sorting out my way back to Kisa. Shigure had clucked his tongue at me and made some comment about how Kisa not only was going to have to move in with me after the wedding but that she'd also have to fit me with a collar to keep me from wandering loose from our home. Although, I was fairly certain I could make it back to my house-it was the main house that I was having difficulty finding. Either way, I reminded him that dogs wore leashes. And I tried to ignore the comment about cow bells when she had slipped into the conversation next to us.  
  
That was how she had always done things. Slipping into our hearts, our intentions, our dreams.  
  
Still, it was unusual to see her without her mouse prince. Not that we didn't love her for herself, but I cannot deny the lingering flutter in my stomach when I watch the way his eyes light up whenever he's near her. Beauty, inward or outward, is something that I have not found a way to resist.  
  
Between the three of us in that moment, we caught up on the corners of Sohma family gossip. Despite Shigure's insistings, Kisa and I were not engaged. Although I had built my home larger than for one person. I would never mind if she wanted to stay with me there. I wasn't one to turn down something beautiful, nor was I one to steal it unwillingly away.  
  
She told us how she was finishing college. It'd taken her longer than some since she was still working harder than any girl, no, any person that I had ever met before. Yuki, supported by the family, had finished college sooner and was in the city. She was planning on meeting him here, the place they both called home. Her eyes sparkled at the thought.  
  
Reunions for each of us who share the secret are not as seldom as might be imagined. But we still have drifted apart as the curses that forced us together were untangled. With care and love we slipped in and out of each person's coming and goings. Familiarizing ourselves with stories of loved ones we might have not seen for a day, or weeks or months.  
  
And then she asked, "And how is Kyou-kun?"  
  
Did she mention my name just in passing?  
  
And looking at the rain,  
  
do you remember if she dropped a name or two?  
  
Won't you say hello from someone,  
  
there'll be no need to explain  
  
and by the way,  
  
did she mention my name?  
  
As the sun begins to set, I feel this insatiable urge to go home. And I start down the stairs with Kyou coming along each step becoming a little heavier with the question he hasn't asked.  
  
"I can't believe how quickly time flies." Kyou has stuffed his hands into his slacks' pockets, the way his head hangs with momentary poor posture reminds me of the days that his gentle nature was just as shy. But that day, it had been laid open for me. Welcoming and kind. Confident and loving. "I haven't seen you in so long, Haru. Take care."  
  
I turn and wonder if he'll ask. He's too hard on himself if he feels any guilt. I take his hand with mine and he doesn't seem to mind while I hold it securely. "Why don't you come back with me? Just to visit." He doesn't respond for a moment. "Tohru's just come home. She's love to see you now that she's on break."  
  
Then I say what he's been waiting to hear. "She asked for you."  
  
The next words he said could have been a purr of contentment, "Idiot, I should probably come along just to make sure you don't get lost."  
  
the end. 


End file.
